With Love, Hedwig
by Blackjackxx
Summary: Hedwig's first and final thoughts of her journey with Harry Potter, and nothing in between. A one-shot a proper owl's musings, most definitely not that scallywag, Pigwidgeon's.


Hedwig prided herself on being a _proper _owl (unlike that scallywag, Pigwidgeon).

She was a strict and faithful bird; always delivering her charges safe and fast, always keeping her feathers prim and proper. She was responsible and loyal to her master, whom she loved dearly. In some ways, she likened herself to Minerva McGonagall. Stern, yes, but hiding a deep care and concern for her master, who seemed to have the unfortunate tendency of attracting trouble.

Hedwig often found herself keeping an eye on her master, and the magical community in general. She refused to admit she was nosy; simply...wary. Hedwig liked to make sure she knew who to trust and who to hoot at.

Before she came into her master's possession, she had been rather lonely; stuck in a minuscule cage in a stuffy shop, by the name of 'Eeylop's Owl Emporium', which had an odd aroma which she could only describe as a mixture of faeces and wart juice. Needless to say, it was a painful experience all round. Hedwig was an upper-class owl, a blemish-free snowy owl, used for only the most _important _of deliveries. She was _not _destined to be shoved into a metal box with the common riff-raff.

But, amongst the hustle and bustle of late August, in which all the young wizards and witches panicked in a last minute frenzy to buy all their school supplies, a rather abnormal giant of a man had entered the store.

The man, who had to be at least eight feet tall, had trudged into the store, sending the cages rattling with his humongous footsteps. He wore filth-caked, down-trodden clothes (Hedwig wondered where on _earth_ he found a shop that supplied his size) that hung limply over his overgrown frame. Upon his size eighteen feet, there were scruffy old boots with several holes and dubious substances riddling the leather. His head was a bushy mess of wild tangles of black hair that Hedwig thought resembled a nest. She wouldn't have been surprised if some poor bird had already tried to make home out of it, only to be lost within the wiry abyss.

He scanned each and every cage, until his beetle-black eyes rested on her. Hedwig dreaded what he wanted with her; horrible visions of being made into soup ran through her mind. He grasped her cage with a shovel sized hand and lifted it with surprising gentleness that did not comply with his appearance. Nevertheless, Hedwig gave and indignant squawk at being manhandled and ruffled her beautiful feathers.

"Now, now" The bearded giant chuckled, "Yer a feisty one, ain't ya'?"

Hedwig sat up a little straighter on her perch, looking down her nose at the beast.

The man trundled down to the desk at the end of the shop, squeezing between the multitude of cages that littered the room. Several owls squawked angrily at her, but instantly silenced when she glared at them.

The man quickly paid for her (she was a mere _three gallions! _Outrageous!) after much fumbling around through several cupboard sized pockets that made her roll her yellow eyes.

She was quickly ushered out of the store, slightly taken aback by the bright shine of daylight that contrasted awfully with the dank, dark of the gloomy store she previously presided in.

Hedwig was overwhelmed with all the sights and smells that assaulted her senses. She stared longingly at a trio of blind, dancing mice that were entertaining some younger children.

The only thing mice should be entertaining was her stomach.

Hedwig tore herself away from the food when she realised that the giant was speaking to a young, equally scruffily dressed boy. There was odd pair of, quite frankly, hideous round glasses, askew on his nose. The boy was a runt of a child, Hedwig thought, but there was something slightly endearing in his messy appearance; like a diamond in the rough. His almond shaped, shockingly emerald green eyes gazed upon her with wonder, as if she were Merlin's gift to the world. She probably was.

Yet, as she stared at the boy, despite her reservations, she knew. She had found her familiar.

* * *

><p>No one could deny that Hedwig's death was unimpressive, she thought as she watched the flaming green light soar towards her. Shot down in a mid-flight, high speed chase between the potential saviour and destructor of the world? Beat that, Pigwidgeon.<p>

Not that her life had been dull. Quite the contrary in fact. The constant undercover flights, delivering secret messages under the Ministry's radar. She was a very important bird. But even better than that, her master loved her (Well, of course. How couldn't he?). Over her, admittedly short, life-span, she had seen the way Witches and Wizards alike treated their owl- like common little house elves. But at least _her _master recognized her for what she truly was.

And, in the end, she recognized him too. As she was consumed by the Killing Curse, she left the world in peace. Because she, a prim and _proper_ owl, died safe in the knowledge that her master would end the war the way he ended her loneliness.

With love.


End file.
